


In which Jason is sad in the snow, but it doesn’t last very long

by narfiffiftic (maladictive)



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:39:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maladictive/pseuds/narfiffiftic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Our story begins with Jason, who is sad and in the snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Jason is sad in the snow, but it doesn’t last very long

**Author's Note:**

> written for a prompt from Ruein on tumblr, which was simply "Jason sad in the snow"  
> i ran with it and made jason and dick the main focus.  
> Of course.

There were a lot of things Jason could be doing right now, and while playing in the snow was admittedly one of them, seeing him standing out there in front of the gala’s Christmas tree, alone, was heartbreaking.

Alfred hands his tray of champagne flutes to a waiter, and leaves the golden party to join his boy.

He remembers something like this from years ago, when another little boy had felt out of place and unhappy, though Dick had waited until the party was over to mope.

Jason seemed to want nothing to do with social niceties, and Alfred found that not only endearing, but admirable.

This wasn’t a boy that would be tied down too easily.

Now if only he’d put on another coat, just looking at him was making Alfred feel a cold coming on.

“Young Master.”

“Hey, Alf.”

“What on earth are you doing out here?”

“Just ruminatin’.”

“Ah, I see.”

There’s silence, punctured with tinkling, drunken laughter, and Alfred squeezes Jason’s shoulder.

And leaves.

-

He goes straight to Bruce, and it’s another two hours before the guests start stumbling out, but Alfred really doesn’t care about them right now.

Bruce stops his Brucie chortles as soon as he sees Alfred’s expression.

It takes Alfred only a minute to shove Bruce’s coat at him, give him a glare (the same one that sent him into stuttering and confused apologies years ago when he was a boy), and point in the direction of the glass double doors and the giant tree.

Bruce doesn’t even argue.

-

He’s very guilty and extremely pleased when he sees how absolutely delighted Jason is to see him.

“What about your guests?”

“They’ll handle the party on their own, want to head out to Russo’s?”

Jason looks at the tree for a bit longer, and Bruce thinks he might not want to go anywhere.

“Nah, I want to go somewhere else.”

Bruce winces a bit, because he never bothered asking Jason where he wanted to go, and just carted him off to every five star joint he could.

“Ok, you lead the way.”

It turns out that Jason’s very good at giving directions; it’s just that Bruce is entirely unable to follow them.

Jason doesn’t know the city through mere street names and numbers.

“I SAID  _LEFT_  AT WHERE THE OLD TATTOO JOINT USED TO BE, DAMN IT, BOSS!”

-

Dick’s in one of the booths at the diner, and he’s messing around with a bunch of papers.

“I thought you said you had a thing,” Bruce says calmly, he tries not to be hurt.

Dick’s head snaps up, and he pales.

But then his eyes meet Jason’s and he outright  _glares._

“I do have a thing.”

“Clearly.”

They sit at Dick’s booth, Jason squeezing in next to him, obnoxiously taking up space and elbowing him into the window. Dick, to his credit, takes it all in stride.

“You could have just… come to the gala.”

“I hate your stupid parties.”

“You rsvp’d with a butterfly drawing.”

“Wearing a Santa hat,” Jason adds in, “I have it on my wall now.” He looks at Dick slyly, “That’s the way to do it, very smooth.”

Dick snickers, and Bruce relaxes a bit.

Leave it to Jason.

“I want cake.”

“Go pick one out,” Bruce pulls out a twenty, slides it over to Jason, and Dick stands up.

“I’ll come with you.”

“I don’t need help—-“

“I never said you did.”

They leave Bruce in the booth with a pile of tempting police reports, and they go to get Jason his cake.

-

“You want  _that_  one?” Dick raises an eyebrow, looking at the chocolate and plum monstrosity with distaste.

“Yes, I want it. I pointed to it and everything.”

“It looks so gross though.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“Did I ask for your company?” Dick hisses, quickly looking back at Bruce.

Who isn’t watching them, and he’s messing with a salt-shaker.

“I did say ‘see ya later’, earlier,” Jason points out.

“I thought you meant it in  _general,_ ” Dick groans.

“I didn’t.”

“I see that now.”

“Just admit that you’re happy; you’re always going on about family stuff,” Jason rolls his eyes, pointing to the cake and handing the cashier the money.

“Yes, family, as in: at home, all of us, and  _planned._ ”

“We’re not cut out for that though.” Jason spent all evening glooming about it; about how rich everyone was, about how lonely it got when the manor was so full, how Bruce didn’t hang out with him when he had parties.

“No, we’re cut out for balls, and near-death experiences, and—“

Jason elbows Dick to shut him up; grateful the dude wrapping the cake is distracted.

But Dick’s not paying attention. He’s distracted by something.

“That’s a really cute kid.”

Jason looks up, follows Dick’s eyes, and sees a little guy with a huge camera leaning over an apple pie in the corner, two booths behind Bruce. He keeps glancing up every now and then, and he’s practically vibrating. Must be the sugar.  

“I’m cuter.” He goes back to waiting for his cake. Leave it to Dick to be a creep.

“Why is he alone?” Dick sounds concerned, and Jason just wants his cake already.

“He looks like a smart kid.” Jason says, “He probably takes care of himself, Dick, that’s how things are sometimes."

Dick gives him a look. “I know that, but it doesn’t make it okay. He’s alone on Winter Break,” Dick pauses. “He’s leaving, he’s not waiting for someone.”

Oh no, nuh-uh.

“He might not celebrate, lots of people don’t celebrate Christmas.” Jason tries to reason with him.

“Is that a reason for him to be here? At eleven? In the only open diner in this part of town? He must have come here  _knowing_  it’d be open on Christmas, ok? You have to guess what that means.” Dick has that face on, the one he has on before he drags Jason from the cave to the park.

“Yes I can, fine, all right, let’s go follow him then.”

Jason snatches the change and cake off the counter, tosses five bucks in the tips till, and follows Dick to the door.

He can see Bruce tensing in his corner, almost standing up. He shoots him a grin, and a placating wave, mouthing “just a bit.” Bruce settles down, but watches them closely.

They step outside, and see the boy climbing into a very fancy car.

“What a ride,” Jason whistles.

“This from the kid that nearly totaled the batmobile, don’t tell me you appreciate cars now.”

“The mobile’s not that great of a car, gimme a call when it starts flying.”

Dick snorts, “I’d like to be alive for that.”

“I’ll outlive you, and write you grave-letters about it.”

“Please outlive me, you brat.”

“Cuz you can’t live without me, right?” Jason nudges him, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah, whatever.”

They stare after the speeding car, watch as it disappears, and Dick’s just a bit sad watching it go. He can’t explain why.

“Alright the kid’s ok, he’s going home and he’s safe,  _now_  can we go back to B?” Jason’s shivering and hopping from foot to foot, and Bruce is probably stressing right now.

He would be.

Dick pulls Jason close and they go back into the warmth of the diner.

“Yeah, let’s get this over with,” he mutters, arm around Jason’s admittedly scrawny and cold shoulders.

“HOLIDAY BONDING,” Jason crows, and they go back to Bruce, who’s finally relaxing a bit and pointedly ignoring the papers and notes Dick left behind.

Dick decides that today, he’s gonna make an effort, and it’s going to be great.  

“ _That’s_  the enthusiasm I wanna hear, little wing.”

 —

**Author's Note:**

> i forgot about posting this here completely, and i think im gonna post a few other prompts here too, or at least, the ones i liked :')  
> TIM'S PARENTS WERE WAITING FOR HIM IN THE CAR, they let him go in to pick his pastry like a big boy, bc he's a big kid now, and they waited for him and knew he'd get them something too.  
> dickie will find out about that later


End file.
